


9mm Tag

by remi_wolf



Series: Travel Logs and Memoirs of Remo Long Legs [2]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Gen, Gun Violence, Mechsona, Mild Gore, Twisted Childhood Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22368496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remi_wolf/pseuds/remi_wolf
Summary: In this, the second episode of Remo Long Legs' travel memoirs, they meet some of the crew properly, outside of Nastya and the Aurora. Of course, Jonny is quick to the trigger, and quick to try and repay perceived slights, and so Remo must pay up. When it's clear that they cannot, Raphaella and Brian kindly chip in to help pay the cost to make sure that Remo's able to pay the debt in the future.
Series: Travel Logs and Memoirs of Remo Long Legs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608139
Kudos: 20
Collections: Beguilements and Distractions, The Stowaways





	9mm Tag

**Author's Note:**

> Umm. Yep. 9mm tag, a game brought up in a lovely game called Vampire: The Masquerade (I think) where you go around with a 9mm pistol and play tag. Everyone with a gun is it, and you just wanna shoot everyone else. You cannot tell me that Jonny and the Mechs haven't played it before. Unfortunately, Remo probably hasn't. And, unfortunately, pollution isn't exactly doing anyone any favors for their lungs, so...yeah. Remo's getting their second mechanism here, and the, like, middle part of the story sorta...gets a little detailed into that. FYI. Just look for the line breaks (with lines) and skip to the last part if you don't want to read that.

The so-called captain (or first mate, as everyone had shouted at that introduction) seemed to have a thing for  _ staring _ . Staring at him while he scarfed down the food that, while barely manageable, was still leagues better than most of the reconstituted, rotting garbage that he had eaten in the first place while back at the City. At least this had the decency to be warm, and taste like something other than the dusty filth of exhaust and pollution. 

“Why won’t you say anything?”

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the captain/first mate, hand pausing half-way to their mouth, holding something that looked like what a person thought a leaf might look like after two centuries of interstellar travel and getting their hippocampus blown out three or four times, if they were speaking conservatively on a year-by-year rate. When the captain just seemed to relax back in his chair, not saying anything more, an antique and unfamiliar--to the kid, at least--gun made an appearance on the table, pointing towards him. The kid snorted, vaguely amused by the half-threat that it provided, wondering if the captain realized that he had been threatened in far worse ways far more often before they had been pulled onto the ship. 

“Nastya, I think your stupid ship pulled up a broken toy. What did it even want with creepy fucking kid anyway?”

“I am thinking that you are making assumptions again, Jonny.”

Jonny. Good. He could work with that. Nastya seemed to have a thing with the ship, and Jonny was either the First Mate or Captain. He hadn’t caught any other names yet, but he figured it would only be a matter of time. 

“I’m making assumptions? God, this isn’t something like with Briar Rose again, is it?”

Nastya sighed before sitting down and stealing one of the cubes from the kid’s plate that he had yet to touch, for fear of the way it glowed in a slightly pulsing putrescence. “Yes, I am thinking you are making assumptions. I do not think it is broken. Nor do I think that it is a toy. The Aurora mentioned that it had noticed it prevent you from getting killed. Again. While you were running to meet up with Ashes and not paying attention to whatever attention you got from that. I think the ship considers this payment for the debt you owe the little stowaway.”

The kid frowned, trying to remember that before sighing and looking up at the ceiling. He did remember that. It was one of the Lamias, looking to make some spare change by tossing a new body to the Ferryman, and he hadn’t quite thought that fair, not when it was clear that the man hadn’t seen them, and that the gun in his hand wouldn’t have made it a particularly fair fight against the knife-toothed Lamias. The kid had just been at the right place at the right time to hop down one half-level to kick one of them into the hollow street to land among the Tartarus levels. Of course, he had entirely forgotten that there were three others, until one latched onto his leg and decided to take a bite in return for stealing their Somnambulist-to-be. A dirty and bloody fight later, and he was swiftly bleeding out. He might have saved that man, but they had also swiftly sped up his introduction into the Acheron. Unfortunately. 

Fortunately, he had been dragged away and hit his head on a handrail before he processed the fact that their legs and lower body had been destroyed while were being pulled into a strange ship that was unrecognizable to someone who had watched the vehicles of only the Olympians come and go for his entire life. 

“I owe the creepy fucking kid a debt?” Jonny narrowed his eyes at the kid, frowning for a moment before standing up, spinning the cylinder of his sixgun before looking at the kid. The kid frowned, looking at the gun in the Captain/First Mate’s hand, slowly setting down the glass of barely-purified water in his hand. “Ten second head start.”

The kid’s eyes widened, and Nastya chuckled softly. “I think you should be running now, little stowaway. Unless you would like to test your immortality already,” she said. The kid looked between them before his eyes landed on Jonny’s, and he just started cackling. 

“You should listen to the ship-fucker.”

The kid started running.

In the end, the first shot came at the kid’s head after six seconds, not ten, but at least that one missed and just barely grazed his arm. He was trying to run, but the newly mechanized legs were taking quite a bit of getting used to. Six inches longer than their natural legs, he kept tripping over the gleaming toes and springs of their new calves. The pain of the new mechanism settling into their nerves had him gasping with pain with every step. Still, he had to keep running, to try and not get killed by one of the last five bullets in that sixgun. 

“One down! That was the easy one. I’m not going to go easy on you now!”

The accompanying cackle was too close for comfort, and the kid was gasping for breath, unable to help the sob that ripped from their lungs as they tried to pull in air that wasn’t being pulled in. His legs and body might be tripping over itself, but soon enough, it was the vision was tunneling from the lack of air that proved to be the greater problem. With a second crack and an explosion of pain in their chest, he found himself tumbling, falling off the causeway to the corridor below. 

“Aw, fuck, shit. Jonny, stop getting blood all over my shit!”

“Fuck off, Tim. It’s not even my blood this time.”

The kid gasped for breath, clutching at the hole in their chest as a pool of blood started spreading out from below him and getting onto Gunpowder Tim’s boots. 

“Fucking hell. Aurora, the creepy fucking kid’s broken!” 

Of course it was, Jonny, you fucking  _ broke  _ it.

“Come on. We’ll get this fixed up.” Jonny sighed, grabbing the collar of the kid’s shirt and dragging him off, the kid’s eyes closing from the pain and lack of oxygen as well as the way his head hit the corner of the table Gunpowder Tim was disassembling his most recent gun on.

* * *

The kid decided to wake up as his lung started to knit together and Jonny tossed him onto a table with Raphaella and Brian standing nearby. Clearly, the kid didn’t think this decision out whatsoever, as the moment their body hit the cold table, Raphaella curled over them and started cutting along their sternum. Naturally, and rather rudely, the kid started to scream and attempt to escape from the very sharp knife sinking into his skin and muscle. 

“Oh, would you look at that. The creepy fucking kid can talk!” 

“Jonny, just tie them up, or something.”

Jonny sighed before quickly pulling the kid’s squirming hands to one end of the table and tying them down to the legs of the table. When the knife cut deeper, and his screams grew louder, their legs were tied down as well. 

“Good gods, Raphaella, just rip them out already.”

There was a loud cracking noise, the sensation of something getting pulled that should never be pulled, and luckily, the kid finally passed out again at that point.

* * *

“You sure sleep a lot, you creepy fucking kid.”

The kid frowned, blinking up at a too-red light before looking over at the source of the voice. His eyes narrowed into slits as they fell onto Jonny. After a long moment, his hand lifted up, all fingers curled against their palm with the exception of one. 

Jonny cackled before passing over a shot glass filled with some clear liquid. The kid frowned, looking at i t  before very hesitantly picking it up to their lips and tipping it back, grimacing at the sharp burn that instantly ignited at the back of his throat. They coughed, sputtering and sending another glare in Jonny’s direction, who just shrugged and took the shot glass from their hand, filling it and pouring a shot into it for his own enjoyment. At least he seemed to sputter a little bit before glancing at the label. 

“Ah. Rubbing alcohol, that explains it.”

The kid rolled his eyes before rubbing at his mouth, and then coughing again, realizing that the motion felt somewhat different than it usually did, and he quickly remembered what had sent him to unconsciousness this most recent time. Right. Getting his lungs ripped out. He rubbed at their throat, tapping the oddly hard material and hearing a metallic ring, before looking down at his chest. At least the way his chest had been cut open wasn’t obvious, not with the shirt that had been thrown onto his body, hiding away his chest. He’d have to look to see if he could see anything different later on. For now, though, it was just the throat. That...wasn’t so bad, especially compared to the remarkably obvious legs that had been replaced.

“Look. You’re really fucking creepy when you’re just staring around and not talking. I know your voice works. We put enough work into making sure of it,” Jonny said, a sigh in his voice as he conjured another bottle out of a cupboard, taking a better look at the label this time before pouring a shot out and passing it off to the kid. 

“And what’s this one? Gasoline?” His voice was rusty, and not from the newly-installed metallic throat that lead to mechanized lungs. He made a small face, frowning before just sighing and tipping the liquid back into his throat, hoping that it would help him speak a little more smoothly. 

Jonny huffed a laugh before shaking his head. “Nah, but I don’t think it would be that unusual if it was gas. Ashes is usually the one with that fetish, though. The rest of us usually stay away from that shit. So, you creepy fucking kid. Now that you’re talking, what do you want to be called?”

The kid looked down at the glass, idly spinning it in their hand and watching the deep amber liquid chase the edge of the glass around and around. “Remo. I could always talk. I just didn’t know what to say.”

“Alright. The creepy fucker has a name now. Remo. Sorry about the long legs, we didn’t exactly have the originals to compare them to, but hopefully you’ll learn how to use them well enough. The lungs were Brian’s idea, though. Apparently we never switched him off of ‘Ends,’ so when he saw you having trouble breathing, he decided to just rip them out. Marius objected, but, well,” Jonny shrugged, plucking the glass from Remo’s hand and filling it again, tipping it into his mouth. “Raphaella was more than happy to. For science, I think she said. Brian’s probably going to apologize now that you’re awake. Ground rules, though. Watch out for the octokittens. Don’t break the ship too much. I think that’s about it.” He sighed before shrugging. 

“You going to shoot me again?”

“Probably.”

Remo shrugged, running a hand over his face before tangling a hand in his hair and pulling at it to try and ground himself somehow. His eyes trailed to the odd mechanical legs attached to his body, listening to the mechanisms whirr and grind as he moved the feet and shifted slightly on the table. At least they seemed to work, and they weren’t terribly painful now, if a bit dulled in sensation. It was better than ending up as a somnambulist or just straight-up in the Acheron after the stunt they pulled earlier. 

“You doing alright, you creepy fucker?”

“Fine. What happened to the City?”

“The City? About four days behind us. Burnt it on the way out of there, like Ashes enjoys. It’s how you can tell that she really loved the place.”

Remo nods, stretching out his legs before finally standing up, grimacing slightly at the stab of pain that lanced up the length of his legs. “Good. It deserved to burn. I hope the Olympians are burning for eternity. Serves them right for trying to pull off that trick and being fucking dicks about it.” 

Jonny cackled again, and Remo sighed, realizing that it would probably grow to be an infuriatingly common sound. Though, that was probably preferable to the alternative, which would just be silence, probably. Already, it was too quiet, and while that didn’t bother Remo too badly, Jonny was already squirming. “Look. Just a heads up, in case you didn’t realize it before. You’re immortal now. We’ve yet to come across a way that gets rid of us for good. Seems you’re pretty much the same thing. So, you’ll want to pray to whatever gods you have to make peace with it.”

Remo tilted his head slightly, looking over at Jonny and leaning against the table. After a moment, their eyes dropped to his new legs, and he stretched one out, as far as he could, poking Jonny’s leg with the point of one foot. 

“My gods are burning on a dead planet. I think they need to pray to me for their own peace.”

Remo gave Jonny a tight smile before turning and walking out of the room, only slightly stumbling as they got used to their long legs and the pain that accompanied each step, though even that was swiftly fading. 


End file.
